Help, I have done it again I have been here many times before
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For the past fifteen minutes, I've been struggling to connect the wires to the correct cable, but each time I think I've got it right, I fail miserably. My frustration grows with every attempt. It's all because of that incident in the kitchen four days ago—me and Avyaan accidentally caused a minor disaster while trying to cook.
Well, okay, maybe it wasn't minor at all. Actually, it was pretty bad.
The damage we caused was much worse than I anticipated. It is worth more than all the breaths I've taken in my life.
Yep, his words, not mine.
He didn't even let me argue back! Honestly, the way he talks sometimes makes me wonder if he's secretly calculating my every breaths.
Mahir, being as dramatic as ever, was quick to step in. He gave me a serious look and declared that I shouldn't cook again.
In fact, he built an entire programmer desk setup for me in the guest room and said I should stick to what I'm good at.
I try to figure out the correct cables when I suddenly hear the sound of glass breaking in the hall. My heart jumps, and I immediately stand up from the bed, smoothing out the crease in my short blue frock, and rush toward the noise.
Standing in the hall, I look around to find the source when my eyes land on him in the kitchen. He's standing near the fridge, searching for something inside.
His broad shoulders and muscular frame are tense. The dark fabric of his shirt clings to him, outlining every line of his body. His posture seems off, though—like something's wrong.
I stay quiet, holding my breath as I turn to leave, trying not to make a sound. But just as I take a step back, he turns around, and a soft gasp escapes my lips before I can stop it.
There's so much blood.
His wrist is cut, and blood is dripping from his hand, staining the counter beside him. He's holding an ice cube in his other hand, pressing it against the wound, but it's clear it's not helping.
Without thinking, I rush towards him, panic swelling in my chest. "What happened?" My voice is shaky as I reach out, trying to hold his hand.
But he pulls his hand away before I can touch him, his jaw tight and eyes focused anywhere but on me. "You were leaving, weren't you, Sashya?" he says, his voice calm—too calm. almost eerie, as if the pain doesn't even bother him.
Ignoring his words, I step closer, determined. "Show me," I demand, trying to grab his wrist again. But he pulls it back once more, keeping his eyes away from mine.
